Burial
by WittyFae
Summary: A Phantom Fiction - book and musical verse. Takes you inside Christine's mind as she relives her last night at the Opera House. Extends past book and musical. See how Christine learns to cope with the demons Erik has left her. COMPLETE


**Burial**

**Author's Note: This is a Christine P.O.V. The line between bookverse and musical blurs a bit as I take from both. The rest is speculation and angst. Can there really be Phantom without angst?...well...yes, but I'm too lazy to write it. Proceed...**

I remember I was getting nervous. Not just about the performance, but about everything. Something evil was going to happen I knew it. So many things were depending on me it seemed, this entire elaborate plan of escape. But I had to push it from my mind if I were going to perform at all. This would be my final performance. After this one final song, Raoul and I would be safe in England. As I walked onto the stage to take my place for the ascension scene, I felt my anticipation grow. The sooner I sang, the sooner I would be gone, and this long nightmare would be over.

I was halfway through the scene and, so far, nothing had happened. I could see Raoul in box three smiling at me. The music was as it should've been; the set pieces and my fellow actors were all in their proper places. And I sang. I sang like it was the last time I would ever open my mouth and form words again. I owed him at least this much, poor man. Things seemed to be playing out perfectly, and then the lights of the great chandelier started to flicker till finally they shut off completely. There was pitch-blackness and confusion. I froze, not wanting to move for fear I might fall off the stage, and also knowing that somehow he had found out. When I felt the familiar warm velvet envelop me, my fears were confirmed. I knew he would find out somehow. I knew it was pointless to resist, so I just let my body go limp as he carried me off down the familiar tunnels I'd come to know so well.

The farther we traveled, the quieter it became, and soon all I could hear was the lapping of water and the echo of his footsteps as he carried me. It was almost tranquil as I think of it now; that little house beneath the ground that held such wonder, and horror, much like the man who had built it.

He threw me on the couch and went to remove his hat and cape. I looked around the living room. It was complete chaos, broken glass and furniture; proof that he'd been like a crazed animal since yesterday.

"Erik." I said softly. He turned with fire in his blue eyes.

"You have no right to speak now Cherie." he said. "You broke your promise to me. You promised to return!"

"Erik please, you're not being fair!" As soon as the words were out of my mouth I regretted saying them.

"Fair?" he said the word almost bemusedly, but I could see the white hot anger flaring just beneath the surface. I knew I was trapped. "You talk of fair?" He continued, "I ask you Cherie do you think it was fair for you to deceive me into thinking you loved me for myself? Was it fair of you to call me a monster to your little Vicomte? Was it fair for you to tell me that you would come here after your performance when you had no intention of doing so? You would have kept me waiting here for hours and hours?" Through his rage his voice began to break and tears flowed from beneath the awful blank mask making the scene all the more frightening.

"Erik..." I started to say, my voice trembling.

"Don't say another word. I can see it in your eyes, hear it in your voice, you don't love me." He spoke those words as if he'd been shot through the heart. "I frighten you, me and my music!"

"No Erik. You're a brilliant musician." I said trying to calm him.

His head snapped up and he glared at me from behind the vacant holes of the mask. "He's working on something Raoul. On something horrible, something terrible. Were those not your exact words?"

I didn't know what to say. I just bowed my head. "Please –"I said meekly.

"Be quiet. I am tired; tired of living like a mole in this pit, tired of always being denied happiness. I will have happiness!" He said. He grabbed my arm and pulled me off of the couch and over to the room that he had sanctioned as mine. "I will not be denied happiness any longer." He said shoving me into the room. "Now put on that dress, I trust you can manage that on your own!" And with that, he slammed the door.

I looked about the room helplessly, and sure enough, on the bed, lay the wedding gown and veil I'd discovered on that long ago night. I examined it more closely now. How frightened I had been of it the first time, coming out of the dark at me on that horrible mannequin. But laying there I couldn't help but be awed with how beautiful it was. I wondered where he had found such a dress, how he had gotten my measurements, how did he know if I would like it? But I knew when Erik was concerned questions were pointless. He did what he set his mind to and as I stared at the white silk on the bed I swallowed hard, thinking of what it was he wanted now.

I couldn't delay any longer. There were no other exits, no way out except through where he stood waiting for me. I put the dress on as quickly as I could with my eyes closed, hoping that whatever was going to happen would come soon. When I had pinned the veil in place I crept over to the door and put my ear to it. It was deathly silent on the other side and I wondered whether he were still there. My heart was racing as my hand turned the latch and I stepped out into the bright living room. I saw that he was still there; he'd been sitting with his head bowed in silence. As I entered, he looked up and I heard him give a small gasp. He slowly stood up but still would not speak.

I stood still suddenly aware of every sound, every smell, every crease in the fabric I was wearing. I watched him walk silently over to me. There was something in his hand. When he finally reached me, I had already begun to shake. I heard the taffeta of my skirts ruffling as I trembled. He took my hand and slipped a plain gold ring on my finger. I just stared at it. A strangled thought swam into my head: Was I married now? We stood there for what seemed like hours. Neither of us would say anything nor could we look each other in the face, I from fear, him from, was it shyness? I looked at the ring. It wasn't supposed to happen this way, my wedding day. All my girlhood hopes suddenly flooded back to me. Visions of a great cathedral littered with flowers and candles, the scent of wax and ancient prayer mingling together. Pews filled with friends and family that I did not have, played in my imagination by faceless strangers, all of them wishing me well. My poor dead father, where he should be at my side looking proud and sad as fathers are supposed to look on such a day. And my groom smiling at me, promising me happiness and safety at last, a home to call my own and the love I had so sorely missed since father had gone to meet the Angel of Music. And here I stood now, afraid, uncertain with my hand in hand of someone I was petrified of yet could not turn away from. Under the ground in caves that time forgot. I was being buried alive. Staring at the ring I wanted to scream and break the silence. I wanted him to say something or I would go mad. Then I heard a muffled voice calling my name and thought that perhaps I did go mad and started hearing voices. But his mouth had formed into a grim line and I knew he had heard it too. He went straight to the little room in the far corner, the one he had always told me to stay away from. I was left alone for a moment and wiped a few stray tears. I would not let him see me cry, I would not let him see how much he had just taken from me.

At the door to the room was a little sliding window which he now pulled aside. As he peeked in he began to laugh; the sound seemed out of place and frightening. "It seems my dear that we have wedding guests." He pulled me over and lifted me so I could look in through the window.

I gasped in horror. Raoul was in that room along with the man everyone at the Opera called The Persian. "Erik, what is that place?"

"Just an invention of mine." He said placing me down again. "You see my dear they can't see us right now. As they look around them all they see is a dark room. But if I were to do this," and he flipping a switch next to the door, "Things will begin to look quite different to them indeed."

As Erik had flipped the switch Raoul and the Persian began writhing on the floor. The room had become extremely bright and they looked as if they were in intense heat.

"Erik, what is happening to them?"

"They're feeling the hot sun of an African jungle. And in a few hours, they will be dead." He said simply.

"Erik please stop! Stop hurting them!"

"Why should I stop? My enemy is in there and he's all that stands between us."

My own temper began to rage inside of me. How could he be so heartless?

"You monster, they haven't a chance in that room! Is this what you truly are? Are all the stories they tell of you true? Have you no pity and no mercy? You will not spare the lives of two men who have no means to fight you, though I beg you? You claim to care for me, love me! Coward!" I was incensed. I might have actually tried to strike him if I did not still fear him. Instead I stood with my fists clenched and watched his expression change to one of utter astonishment. I do not blame him. I myself was surprised at the sudden length in my spine and the power in my voice.

Finally he found the words to speak. "Do I really look that stupid?" He said roughly, trying to regain his composure. "Do you think your little Prince is just going to walk away from you? I think not!"

"Erik, what will it take for you to spare them, to show compassion? Must I promise to marry you? Very well then, I promise I will stay here with you. I'll be your wife. I'll go to your bed if you ask me to, but spare them please, don't let them die so horribly!" And in that moment I knew I had sealed my own fate. I saw the stone slab pushed firmly into place above my grave and the sunlight gone. I awaited his judgment.

At first he seemed overwhelmed that I would say such a thing, almost as if he couldn't believe his luck. Then it faded into thoughtfulness, which I can only assume was him weighing my offer. "How can I trust you?" He said at last. "You've broken your promises before." I couldn't think of anything to say. But suddenly I saw the tears streaming out from behind his mask again. And this time, it did not repulse me, rather it broke my heart. I was overcome with sorrow and pity. This man had not known a day of happiness in his life. All he was asking for was love. Was that wrong, was it not something I was at this very moment struggling to keep for myself?

For the moment, I forgot about Raoul in the torture chamber, or the turmoil in the Opera House above. I took off his mask. He was shocked, but I wouldn't give it back. There was no way around it, he was ugly. The memory of that first viewing sent a shudder through me and I tried to push it from my mind and look at him as he was now. The face did not look as horrible when it was distorted with anger. I stroked his cheek with my other hand and lowered his face to mine and kissed him.

I still don't know what made me do it, or if it was even a question of being made to do anything. Kissing him at that moment just felt like the obvious thing to do. What other way could I prove myself? Looking back, it did not cross my mind to betray him, to break my promise to him again. When I said I would stay with him I meant it, I was fully prepared to consign myself to the underground house forever in exchange for Raoul's freedom. So many things flooded my mind at once in such a short time. The kiss could not have lasted longer than 5 seconds yet I was bombarded with thoughts enough for an hour. I remember musing that with my eyes closed it felt like I was kissing any other man. When our lips first met he went completely rigid and still. I remembered what he'd told me long ago about his own mother never kissing him and thinking that I was the first, and probably last, human being who would ever kiss this man. The thought was quite overwhelming. I thought about how normal the misshapen mouth felt against my own. I thought of how much taller he was than I. I thought that this would be the first of many kisses I would have to give as part of the bargain I'd struck. I could feel his heart pounding in his chest and had a fleeting thought of what would happen if he should suffer cardiac arrest with Raoul and the Persian still trapped in the little room. That thought was what finally ended the kiss. Every moment could be their last.

When I let him go, he looked as though he couldn't support his own weight. His eyes didn't focus for a moment and his breath came in ragged gasps. He looked at me with what can only be described as wonder. I could not meet his gaze and I lowered my eyes to the floor, aware that I was starting to blush. Without any more hesitation, he made straight for the door of the torture chamber and opened it. Raoul and the Persian stumbled out sweating and near dead. My first instinct was to run to Raoul but the Persian had stumbled over to me first and was staring with pleading eyes. I broke from my trance and rushed to get him some water. While I did so, I saw that Raoul was in a slightly worse state and Erik was giving him something from a small vile. I should have been frightened that it was poison. After all, Erik could have easily poisoned him and then said he couldn't have saved him. But I didn't fear that anymore. The kiss had changed everything. He would not harm him.

I tended to the Persian for a long while. When he was drinking on his own and in stable condition on the couch, I went over to Erik and Raoul. Erik was saying "...small amounts of liquid for twenty-four hours and no liquor..." Raoul had regained some strength and was able to stand. Erik helped him to his feet. "On the shore, you will find my boat." He continued instructing Raoul. "Take it and go." I looked at Raoul wanting to remember him one last time before he sailed away across that black river Styx. His hair was damp on his forehead and his shirt was torn and bloody. I had to look away or I want start to weep. Best to make a clean break, I decided. Just turn around, you'll never see him again, you've made a bargain.

I was pulled from my anguished thoughts Erik's long fingers lacing their way through mine. His hands were always so cold, and now sweaty from the kiss. I shivered in his grip. He kissed the back of my hand tenderly. His lips were warm and drove away the cold from his clammy touch. Then in a gentle gesture he placed my hand in Raoul's and I finally understood. He was setting me free.

I looked at him in utter amazement. I couldn't speak the words, but my expression spoke them for me. "Why?"

"I'm not made of stone." was all he said.

I didn't have time to reply or even formulate an answer Raoul was dragging me out the door. This wasn't right; I couldn't just leave him like that.

"Wait!" I cried. "Your ring."

"Keep it." He said his voice growing thick as if tears were threatening to over take him at any moment. "Only come back when I am dead and bury it with me."

And as I looked into his blue eyes for the last time and saw the deep sadness and loneliness that permeated his soul, I knew that it would not be long. I could not refuse him. "I will. Good-bye, my Angel of Music." I said as tears began to flow down my own cheeks.

As Raoul pulled me through the door the last thing I heard him say was, "Christine I love you." Those were his final words to me.

Two months later L'Epoch published the following:

Erik is Dead.

I read that passage over and over again. It was so blunt, just the kind of simple statement I'd expect from him regarding his own death. Of course, I had to tell myself that it had probably not been him to publish it but rather the Persian who had remained in the house the night I left. Raoul told me all he'd learned about the Persian's past dealings with Erik and how far back the two of them went. I suppose him more than anyone would know a fitting epitaph for Erik. A part of me still couldn't believe it. The man who had turned my life upside down in six months was no more. I had such mixture of emotion. In the end I settled on pity. All he had done to me, the lies the cruel games they were all for want of love. And I could not blame him for that.

I went to my bureau drawer and opened it, searching for the small black velvet box I had hidden in the back. In it was the gold ring he'd given me. Raoul would be furious if he knew I had kept it, but I hadn't had the heart to throw it away; after all, it was my first wedding ring. I stared at it for a very long time and thought about his final request_. "Keep it." He said his voice growing thick as if tears were threatening to over take him at any moment. "Only come back when I am dead and bury it with me." _

I couldn't give it up, it was the only thing I had left to remind me of him; but were they memories I wanted to keep? Would it not be best to bury those painful six months with this ring, to put it all behind me? With resolve I closed the box and slipped it into my purse. I had something to let go of, and a promise to keep, it was the least I could do for the poor man.

That night, I used my own personal key to the locked gate on the rue scribe side of the Opera House for the last time. I knew the way by heart and I was able to make my way quickly down to the shores of the underground lake. It was deathly still, there was no organ playing, or the sound of a violin, the house stood abandoned. I shivered and pulled my cloak more tightly around my shoulders. And suddenly I knew I couldn't go back into that house. I was frozen to the spot, there was an invisible wall keeping me there. I struggled against it, looking over at the boat and oar that lay so close to me, but still I could not. I knelt down on the sand and I cried. I cried for so long. With no one around to hear me I sobbed as loud as I could. I felt my soul shaking around inside of me. I let the last six months roll out of my eyes and onto the sand which grew wetter and wetter with every second. It was over, everything I'd had to go through, everything we had all gone through was all over. I felt a huge weight lifted from me. And I began to laugh until my laughter and my sobs were one in the same. If someone were to have stumbled across me they would have thought I was mad, and perhaps I was for the moment. I had no clear thoughts, only relief that I didn't have to live that dark life anymore; and neither did Erik.

My crying subsided and my breathing returned to normal. I wiped my nose and eyes with a handkerchief from my pocket. The black velvet box fell out and landed on the sand. Quickly, I dropped to my knees and opened it. There lay the golden ring, still shining even in the gloom. I kissed it softly and started to dig a hole with my bare hands. When it was deep enough I dropped the ring into it. It was still glittering as I filled the hole again. I sat back for a moment. It was done; I should make my way home and begin my new life. But something still felt unfinished. I felt as if I should say something, a prayer or a eulogy but I did not know just what. Suddenly, I knew exactly what to do. I stood up and there on the banks of the great lake and I sang for him. I sang him a Requiem with every ounce of strength I had. When I finished, I turned my back on the house for the last time and found that doing so was quite easy. Now it was truly finished, and I had given him a send off, a thank you, a tribute, and a final release, for both of us.

**Feel free to review. Thanks for reading!**


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